The Last of the Wardens and the Only hope for Ferelden
by CopperMax
Summary: Zaria, a Dalish elf, with a habit of getting into trouble finds herself knee-deep in the troubles of Ferelden as one of the last two grey wardens. Follow her as she faces perilous dangers, and finds friends along the way. Will she rise to defeat the coming Blight, or will she fall? This is do or die, but will she be ready? Zaria/Zev/ Alistair Rated T, cause you know... Zev


**Dragon Age Fan fiction Authors note **

**Its not really specific events, just moments through the Dalish elf, Zaria's point of view. my first fan-fiction, probably not very good. Really short chapters. Review! be nice...**

**Swallowed Pride**

"_Let them go. You've frightened them enough. They're not worth the time anyways."_

_ He shoos them and they run terrified out of the woods. He asks about the cave, the shems mentioned. "We should check it out."_

_ "Yes," he agrees, "and if we find anything the keeper will want to know." We find the cave, but what we find isn't the treasure we had hoped to find. It's worse. Much, much worse…_

"No! Noooooo! Don't do it! Don't touch it! Tamlen!"

She tosses and turns, repeating her hunting partner's name. Her scream wakes her new travel companion. He sits up and decides to take watch. Eventually he takes pity on her and gently shakes her awake. She retracts at his touch.

We hike along long side-by- well, not side. I am used to these forests, but even with my dexterity and knowledge of the forest I can't keep up with his long legs. For the third time that day I fell as I was running to catch up. _Humans_, I think angrily. He stopped as I stand and brush myself off. I mutter irritably to myself and walk to the Grey Warden. He says nothing. A trait I've become thankful for these past couple of days.

"I take it Tamlen was your friend." _What? How does he know about Tamlen? I never told him his name! Granted, he should know the name of the elf he condemned to death!_

"I don't remember telling you about him."

He chuckled, which annoyed me even more. "You talked about him in your sleep."

"I…oh," I'm at a loss for words.

He looks at me and his usual blank expression changes to a regretful look, that made… something in me, move. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You're keeper told me he meant much to you."

I considered saying "It's not worth much," with a snort, but hesitated, swallowed my pride and instead said, "I… thank you. For everything. You saved me, and I haven't exactly been grateful. I… I'm sorry."

**First Glimpse**

I thought about Tamlen for about the billionth time since Duncan had "saved me". I got to admit the man had grown on me since our journey began. His talk of dark spawn and far off places fascinated me, though I had yet to show it. Somehow though, I think he knew and ever since my apology he's been quite good company.

"The Dalish are a strong, talented people. I do not quite understand why everyone refuses to see that." He finishes.

_A shem that understands._ I never thought that possible. Of course this man was no ordinary shemlen. He was a Grey Warden. Soon, I would be too. "I… you're… different than other sh- humans."

He gave a small laugh, "I'll take that as a complement." I had been studying him since our first encounter. He had longish black hair, not quite long enough for a ponytail but it suited him. He had a beard as well, which was new. My people weren't much for facial hair. But unlike most humans I've seen, he carried himself with a sense of dignity, self-respect, honor, duty even. He was… something to aspire to.

**The King**

After many days of travel a tiny fort becomes visible in the not-so-far-away distance. "Ostagar," Duncan says simply, "We'll be there soon."

When we finally reach the ruin, err fort -_It looks like a ruin_ I reason- a man; no doubt another shem greets Duncan. The fair-haired man is flanked by at least five guards. Three on the ground, where any human would see them, but as an elf of great hunting ability I noticed the two archers hours ago.

"-Your majesty." _He's a king!_

"The other wardens told me you'd found a promising recruit, I take it this is she." The man's gaze is shifted to me and for once in my life I feel... I apologize I was never very good at expressing my feelings, like I'm being studied, searched, like he's looking for a certain characteristic or ability. Duncan attempts a proper introduction, but his majesty prefers to keep it casual, "Ho there friend! Might I know your name?"

_ Friend? I don't think so, _but I tell him despite my instincts. "Zaria"

He then went on to talk about the Dalish and our renowned arrows.

"You know much of the Dalish?" I asked cynically, and without the typical "Your Majesty."

"Some, but your people aren't exactly fond of mine. With good reason of course." I nodded and he excused him self after formally welcoming me.

Duncan and I then got to talking. "Whoa, hold your halla for a second. What ritual?"

He chuckles and explains that the ritual is called the joining. It is there I will officially become a Grey Warden and be cured. I hope it's soon. I can feel the corruption inside me growing. I just hope its not too late. He then left me to explore the camp.

**Not in the forest anymore**

"You must be Duncan's newest recruit… Are you okay?"

"Fine," I snapped, "… a bit c-cold is all." I'd been traveling with Duncan's cloak on the whole journey. I hadn't realized just how cold it actually was.

"Your hands are turning blue! You might want to consider some uh, warmer clothing." As he talked his eyes shifted to my exposed stomach. Where I was living, it was warm. Where I was, this was traditional hunters dress, but amongst these shemlen. It was down right bizarre. Anyways, I ditched the shem asking me questions and ran right into an elf; a flat ear (city elf), but an elf nonetheless. I tried to talk to him, but he kept insisting he go. Something about the Quartermaster giving him the switch. I think this Quartermaster was in need of a lesson in manners.

On the way some dog lord stopped me. Humans apparently can't muzzle their own hounds. But still, now there's a chance I could get my own mabari, _someone to talk to in this sea of shemlen. _I also had a…somewhat intriguing conversation with a circle mage about the dark spawn and their connection to the beyond or as they call it, the fade_. _The mage, Wynn I think her name was, seemed very experienced in the field for a circle mage, but as she had said I had better things to do.

Finally, I find the Quatermaster.

"Excuse me?" I say threateningly. And he begins to realize just how big of a mistake he's made. He tries to apologize; "Maybe you should be more kind to your servents." I suggest. I turn away quite satisfied with myself, and find one of Duncan's other recruits. He's a shemlen, no surprise, but he's got an interesting name. Daveth. First, I think he insults my species. Then, goes on and on about what he thinks the ritual is.

"I'm thinkin they plan to send us into the Wilds"

"So what?" I say, "I grew up in forests."

"Did you now?"

I get into the fact that I'm Dalish and he takes a step back. Ha. But I'm not exactly a cruel human-hater, so to give the guy some self-assurance I say, "I'll watch you're back if you watch mine." This is the deal I've always had, though never had to say. _Tamlen, and… oh, I miss him. He and I have always watched each other's backs. We were family._

"Oh, I'll watch you're back." I roll my eyes and walk away. Thankfully, he doesn't follow. _Shems, so pitifully naïve, but still too self-absorbed to notice just how disgraceful they are. And the there are those too shy to show how much of their ideas could benefit their society, of course there are those who are timid because, well that's who they are. Who are just too hard on themselves and take offense to societies insults._ I may be living with these shemlen, but I have no intention of becoming like them. _By the Creators! _A thought hit me._ Am I a flat ear now? No, I'm still a dale. "We are the elvanahn. Never against shall we submit." _The oath of the Dales floats around my head for a while.

All that's left is to find Alistair, I guess.

**A Joining… and two deaths**

I find him aggravating some mage who stomps off in a cloud of resentment after a pitiful crack about children. Alistair is tall man. Well, taller than most humans. Elves are typically shorter than humans, so he towers over me. We get to talking, and my inbred thoughts about him, vanish. He seems a good person I was determined however to keep my human opposing elf disguise through the whole conversation. He wouldn't tell me anymore than Duncan about the joining, but occupied my time with other talk. Mostly about him, you see, I kept asking him questions as to keep of the subject of my past. But my questions would only hold him off so long…

"So what about you?" _Here we go._

"Uh, I was uh… oh, look. There's Duncan!" I exclaim to avoid his question. He gives me an unconvinced look, but says nothing. I'm usually much more subtle, maybe I'm just tired.

Duncan scolds Alistair for "riling up" the mage, and sends him off to find Jory. Err… Sir Jory. He's a knight. Though he does seem a bit dense. Duncan tells us our main objectives and sends us on our way. It seems Daveth was right. We're headed into the wilds. Alistair tries to give me some basic mail, but I can't quite let mine go. This armor is one of the only things I have left from my clan. So who cares if I'm cold, it won't kill me.

We come back shivering –me, a bit blue- and covered in blood not our own, but our objectives complete, along with a side mission of my own. I handed the vials of dark spawn blood to Duncan and showed him the treaties, which I kept in my pack. After telling him of the two witches we encountered in the forest, it was time for the joining.

The real test was before the joining. We waited with Alistair at the old temple. The boys showed their true colors. Jory whined about the tests, making himself seem more the coward I knew he was. And Daveth, well he wasn't scared exactly, but he also protested. Alistair was strangely quiet. After a moment or two of their quarreling I couldn't take it, "Will you both shut up?"

Daveth seconded that and added a pun about Jory wetting his trousers. Duncan came in, and began the ritual…

Alistair recites a few sacred words prior to the joining, and then it begins. Daveth is the first to drink from the goblet. For a moment he looks like he'll be fine, then out of nowhere he screams in pain and falls to his knees. His pupils disappear leaving a blank empty space that just looks wrong. "I am sorry Daveth." Duncan says. I stare.

"Step forward Jory." Its Duncan, but he sounds… Different. Detached, like he's another person. Jory backs away, mumbling about a wife and child. I feel bad for the man, but he committed to this. Duncan steals the thought from my head, "There is no turning back." There's an attempt at a fight but Duncan's older and much more experienced, Jory never had a chance.

There is only me now. I glance at my fellow recruits bodies and vow that I will not end up like that. With my journey never fully complete, with tasks unfinished and people in need. _Creators, help me. _I take the goblet and bring it to my lips. _By the creators that tastes bad! _An unbearable pain breaks out in my temple then pours into my body. My eyes then begin to burn in the most horrifying way. I black out.

**A Meeting**

My eyes open to see a pair of heads much too close for comfort. My reflexes kick in quickly and I slide back. Alistair offers a hand, which I hesitantly take. He nearly throws me over his shoulder. Apparently, he's stronger than he looks. The two congratulate me, as I stand there not knowing what to do. Then Alistair asks, "Did you have dreams? I had terrible dreams after my joining."

The horrific dreams flash through my head. I nod as Duncan explains, "Such dreams come when you begin to sense the dark spawn." He then goes on to mention a meeting I must attend. By the king's request I might add.

I steal a peek toward Alistair and say, "What does his majesty," I speak the word with no such respect, "wish of me?"

Duncan confesses he does not know. I agree to attend after a vain attempt at getting out of it. He does agree however, to stall until I am ready. In the wilds I had succeeded in finding a wilds flower, which could be made into a potion to heal the poor hound I had muzzled earlier. Now it was time to find that dog lord.

"Thank you," he says and tries to pay me. I refuse, for I want none of his shemlen money. I turn away and sigh, time to talk to dear King Calin.

I approach them slowly, gauging their conversation and studying this new shem. He was a big man, even for a shemlen. His bulky heavy plated armor made him seem even bigger. He must be the Tern. He was a proud man, I could tell, too proud for my taste, now however he was just irritated and annoyed.

The King greeted me in his normal fashion. Though, he seemed more interested in me than the battle plan. The man reminded me of a city elf I once met. She had stared at me in amazement, and then bombarded me with questions about life with the Dalish. I thought myself better than her at the time. Now, I pity her and those like her. They will never know any of their heritage, what makes them an elf, and not simply humans' pets. The King wears the same expression of wonder and amazement as he talks about the wardens.

The Tern however, does not approve of this. He seems to disregard the Grey Wardens as well, something I was not expecting. He proceeds to predict his majesty's undoing, though he refers to the man as "Calin". No "king" to be heard. I instantly liked the man better. The king defends himself and suggests we get on with the battle plan. Tern Loghain explains, but is interrupted by Calin who wants his "best" up there in the tower lighting the beacon

_I'm not your anything_, I think icily but am smart enough not to say. My archery skills won't be enough to save me if the king decides he'd like me better in a cage. I looked to Duncan as the king and his General bicker about things that have no impact on the coming battle. His face is impassive.

"Enough! This plan will suffice." And just like that Loghain succumbs to Calin's will.

**The Beginning of what could be The End**

"Ah, your eyes finally open." I stretch my neck and look around. _Where am I_, I wonder. The woman in front of me looks vaguely familiar… and then it all comes flooding back…

Alistair and I had been sent to light the beacon for Loghain's men to charge. The dark spawn had overrun the tower and we had fought to get to the top. At the top was a surprise. An ogre had been waiting on our arrival. That didn't stop us however. We had killed it. I lit the beacon, and then… Then, we were swamped by dark spawns' evil stench. _Alistair! Where is he?_

This woman in front of me, she was in the wilds. She's the witch! Err, the witch's daughter. Her name was Morrigan. She explained how Loghain had quit the field leaving the King and all others to die. "Your friend… he is not taking it well."

"My friend? You mean the human?"

"The dim-witted one from the forest, yes." I laughed despite the circumstances. We dalish have learned to make the best of what we are given. And that's exactly what I planned to do. She tells me where he is and sends me off to find him and her mother.

"You… you're alive."

I choke out a bogus laugh, "It takes more than a few people to kill me."

Alistair goes on to prove just how traumatized and demoralized he is. I don't know how to respond. But The Witch of the Wilds, the legendary Flemeth seems to be on a tight schedule. She helps formulate a plan and sends us on our way… along with her daughter, Morrigan. I, personally, am glad to take her. Magic has always been an ally to the dalish, and has never failed to amaze and fascinate me. Alistair on the other hand, his templar past prevents him from really being okay with her being an apostate.

Then, we're off to defeat the Blight before it can truly start. Two newly induced Grey Wardens and an apostate against an entire army of dark spawn and an arch demon. _What is it those pesky humans in the skirts say, ah! Andraste smile upon you. We were gonna need all the gods we could get on our side._

**Barely more than Strangers**

_I've known the man for what? A day? And now we're destined to defeat a Blight together! What was I thinking? We're barely more than strangers! _

"Fate is a strange thing" I swear I can almost hear the Keeper, but in my heart I know she's miles away and can't help me. This time… I'm on my own. The thought hits me like a boulder. I stop and rest against a tree as the weight of it sinks in.

I've never been on my own there was always someone. There was always him. He was always there. I trusted him with out a doubt, believed in him with everything I had, and watched his back like it was my own. We risked our lives for each other, and lived not only for ourselves. In the end, it was my fault, I could've, should've stopped him… but I didn't and he paid the price.

My two companions go on ahead then look back. "I'm fine." I say when Morrigan asks. Alistair hasn't said much at all lately, mourning the fallen I guessed. And there was much mourning to be done, but hadn't known them. And I would not mourn the death of shemlen I did not know deserved it.

As we set up camp I think of Ashalle. The way she would fret over a scabbed knee, was unforgettable. I wondered what she'd do if she saw me now. The thought of her reminded me of my clan, my home. My heart ached in a way that I'd never known. I yearned for my friends, for Junar and his stupid jokes, for Fenarel and his crazy recklessness, for Maren and her beloved Halla, but most of all, for Tamlen. I missed him more than anything.

The way he was always getting in trouble and was always dragging me along, the quiet mornings we spent hunting, the evenings we spent curled up with our friends at the campfire, that first kiss. He met a horrific end… an end that could've been avoided. If only…

"Uh, what?"

"Campfire, wood…" Morrigan listed.

"Oh, right. Wood."

**Different**

I strip of my armor one piece at a time till all I'm wearing is a much too baggy shirt and a pair of pantaloons that were _not_ made for a woman, let alone a woman _elf_.

I sit in my usual spot by the fire where I can keep an eye on the campsite without moving. Morrigan refuses to camp with us and had a separate camp all together if only 10-15 feet away. I pull my knees to my chest and throw another log onto the dying fire. Alistair comes up from behind and sits down next to me without a word. To say I'm surprised would be an understatement. He hadn't said a word to either Morrigan or myself since we left Flemeth's hut in the Wilds. He'd always hiked behind us, not because he couldn't keep up, but because he wanted to be back there. Alone. I thought it as unhealthy (then again, so is Morrigan's cooking), but said nothing.

I look over at this man. He was once a Templar, but is traveling with a mage, an apostate no less. A human he is, yet traveling with a dalish. He is… different. But, maybe, just maybe different is a good thing.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He turns his head to face me. His usually short copper-colored hair is longer, shaggier. The corner of my mouth twitches as I remember the little boys from my clan running away from their mothers, who are chasing them, yelling for them to come back so they could cut their hair.

We sit there poking at the fire until it touched the steadily darkening sky. I lay back and stare up at the stars. He glances back then turns around and heads toward is tent. I sleep right there…. under the familiarity of the stars.

**Lothering**

We deal with the dim-witted bandits preying upon the helpless refugees fleeing the dark spawn. After, Alistair decides to grace us with his presence and we discuss our plans for the road ahead. We decide on Redcliff, to find this Arl Eamon. Alistair is convinced he is a respectable man who will come to our aid.

In this little village we acquire a Qunari, chantry sister with "visions", and supply the people with health poultices, poisons, and traps to defend and heal themselves until they too, could flee. Then, we're off to see just how honorable the Arl of Redcliff really is.

**True Warriors and Chanters**

The Qunari, Sten, seems to be oddly interested in my mabari. On the way to Redcliff I find them growling at each other. Trooper ends up out roaring him. The Qunari stands up and says my dogs a "true warrior". I pat his head and give him his dinner, before walking away.

It had been a long day, all I really wanted to do was sleep, but the Leliana made that impssible with her constant babble about well, everything. First it was the stars then somehow she went on to hair, my hair actually, and then shoes, Alistair, Morrigan, and Sten, and now the chantry.

"Do the Dalish have a chantry she asks?"

I burst out laughing. "A chantry? Are you serious?"

She looks at me strangely.

"In other words," I begin, "I don't believe in your maker. Though, I am familiar with the story."

She gasps, "It's not a story! It's religion."

I roll on to my side, "Sure, Le. Let's just agree to disagree."


End file.
